


There and Back Again and Again and Again

by QuestionableCorrosion



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Experimental Style, Gen, Pre-Canon, Timeline Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6647734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuestionableCorrosion/pseuds/QuestionableCorrosion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a sentry station is raised, a sentry station is lost, and nothing ever changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There and Back Again and Again and Again

"There!" Papyrus took a step backwards and raised his hands to frame the finished product like an artist assessing their masterpiece.  
  
("There!" A thousand other Papyrus-es shouted in perfect unison in Flowey's memory, their shadows synchronising with the current Papyrus' movements.)  
  
"It's perfect!" he continued, beaming like the brightest bulb.  
  
(The books Flowey had read to allay his infinite boredom had eventually included several dictionaries, and not one would have defined "perfect" as a large, slightly dented cardboard box with a rectangle hole cut in front standing in the snow, held together with rotini and hope, its corners already sodden.)  
  
Sans tilted his head, his hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie. "Sure you don't wanna add support beams or something? It's not the sturdiest."  
  
"Later!" Papyrus leaned to pick up a notebook he had left on the path as they had set up the box and flicked it open. "First, we must decide on something very important! Which design looks cooler?"  
  
Sans leaned in to look at the open pages Papyrus nudged in his general direction. His expression remained completely unchanged.  
  
Fifteen feet away, sprouting from a snow bank, Flowey sighed. Only a small puff of aspiration as to not attract attention. It was safe enough to watch the scene unfold out in the open, as he knew neither of the brothers would glance in his direction, but only if he kept mum.  
  
(It had been more than a hundred resets since he had last seen what Sans saw right then, but the images were forever burned in his mind: first, a sketch of a rather unsteady sentry station covered in spikes, with a bright red flag on the top, then another doodle featuring a grandiose skull-and-bones design, complete with sunglasses on the skull and for some unfathomable reason, racing stripes.)  
  
(Both drawings were also surrounded by brightly coloured flames, to further emphasise the coolness factor.)  
  
"I dunno, bro. I think the box would collapse under all that stuff."  
  
"Oh." Papyrus raised his free hand to his chin and squinted in puzzlement. "Well, I suppose...maybe it'll look more official like this??" Despite his words, his usually cacophonic voice sounded a little deflated.  
  
Sans shrugged. "I'll see if I can get a sturdier box later."  
  
"But that might take forever!" Papyrus snapped the notebook shut, his usual sunny disposition returning. "No matter! I shall come with another design, lighter and even greater than these! Nyeh heh heh!"  
  
Sans grinned. "Glad you can think..."  
  
Papyrus groaned. "Don't say it!"  
  
"Outside the box."  
  
Papyrus covered his face with his hand. "Sans! Oh my God! That's the worst one yet!"  
  
"Sorry. Couldn't resist."  
  
"In any case, this is a huge step forward!" Papyrus struck a triumphant pose. All that was lacking was a fluttering cape.  
  
(If Flowey did nothing. it would take exactly ten months, two days, four hours and sixteen minutes until the skeleton would first try on the red cape and the rest of the costume, his "battle body". His eyes would sparkle, and his gaze would flitter between Sans and the mirror until he could no longer contain his excitement and began to dance with joy.)  
  
"After she sees this, Undyne will surely understand just how serious I am about joining the Royal Guard! She might even vow me in on the spot!"  
  
"That's great, bro." The lights of Sans' eyes shone ever so slightly brighter. "I think she already gets it, though. What with agreeing to train you and all."  
  
"Well, yes." Papyrus' grin turned into a frown. "It's been...different from what I was expecting?? But! I have obviously made great progress all the same!"  
  
"That's my bro."  
  
"Yeah! Last time we only burned down half her kitchen!"  
  
"That's...really great." Despite all the effort Flowey had made over thousands of timelines to wipe that smirk off his face, Sans' grin never faded. At least the prospect of his brother playing with fire brought sweat to the surface of his skull.  
  
"As soon as I learn how to stop pasta from going soft, I'll start cooking at home! So then you'll have no excuse to eat at Grillby's!" Papyrus scowled at his brother. "You spend more and more time in that grease dimension every day! Do you even remember what proper food tastes like?"  
  
"Aw, I bet you'd like the grub if you gave it a chance. Grillby cooks a mean burger." Sans winked. "The last one I had was so nasty it tried to mug me."  
  
"Sans!"  
  
Sans chuckled. "Anyway, I should head back to my station."  
  
Papyrus' jaw dropped. "Sans! Don't tell me...you're actually going to work??"  
  
"That's the plan, anyway."  
  
"Wowie..." Papyrus wiped an imagined tear from the corner of his eye socket. "You're going to buckle down so that I'll look good in front of the Royal Guard for having a cool and hard-working brother?"  
  
Flowey rolled his eyes. As much mileage as he had gotten from Papyrus' bravado in the past, at times it still irritated him.  
  
"Heh, and here I thought I was already cool." Sans pulled one hand out of his pocket and patted his sleeve. "I'm not warm, anyhow."  
  
"Sans!" Papyrus rose to his full height. "In any case, if you're planning to work I'm the last person to stop you! In fact," he eyed his make-shift sentry station, "I'm going to work hard too! I'm going to head out for my meet-up with Undyne! Being there early will show her just how punctual I am!"  
  
"Showing up four hours too early?"  
  
"Exactly!"  
  
Sans shrugged. "A good plan."  
  
And not a trace of sarcasm. Even now, Flowey didn't always understand Sans.  
  
_["Yeah, he really is the coolest." Sans leaned his head on his arms, eyes half shut, so many resets ago Flowey had long since lost track of them. "Dunno what I'd do without him."]_  
  
The brothers parted ways, Papyrus marching back towards Snowdin with his chest puffed out, Sans slowly skulking towards his station near the dead end.  
  
A minute later, Flowey shed the lingering snow off his leaves and weighed his options.  
  
He could follow after Papyrus and introduce himself as his new best friend for a "Wowie!" and a whole lot of dog-like enthusiasm. He could do the same with flirting for a considerably more confused "Wowie!" and later a very bizarre date that would culminate in Papyrus gently placing him on his desk and admitting that while he was flattered, he only saw Flowey as a friend. He could simply follow Papyrus to his meet-up with Undyne and do what he could to enjoy their little sideshow. He could begin another complicated scheme; appear before Papyrus with a cryptic prophesy and watch him boggle as all his predictions came true, and use the trust gained by that to lead him into folly. Begin sowing doubts into his mind about his brother's secrets, whether fake or genuine.  
  
Or he could simply wait for Papyrus to pause to adjust the ropes surrounding the fake drawbridge above the chasm and trip him as he began walking again. That was always good for a quick laugh.  
  
The possibilities were endless.  
  
Or at least, the possibilities had seemed endless once.  
  
But no interesting new scenario, no variable that piqued his interest, not even old favourites sprung to his mind there and then. He had spent the last several resets messing with the goofy skeleton anyway. Of all the denizens of the underground, he was among the least boring, but after so many runs, "least boring" came with an asterisk. Still pretty damn boring.

 

* * *

 

So, he went with Smiley Trashbag instead.  
  
Much like the skeleton he was trailing, Flowey was being lazy. It was simply a shorter trip to Sans' sentry station than the grassfields of Waterfall.  
  
It was challenging to keep up his interest in anything, really. When he had first allowed himself to kill people, and later to succumb to any depravity he could think of, a whole new world of possibilities had awoken each time. But now that those depths had been plumbed, every mystery had been solved, every variation had been explored, every situation, every monster, every location had been studied so intimately he now knew them all better than any other creature, alive or dead. Now...  
  
There were still some things he hadn't succeeded at, and by the looks of it never would. Asgore had never shown him the six human souls. He had never found a way to recover his old form. And for all the LOVE he gained, he had never found one tiny scrap of love to call his own.  
  
And he had never managed to wipe the bloody smirk off Sans' face.  
  
Oh, he had given him hell, more times than he could count. From murder to torture all the way to pettily nicking his bottle of ketchup, he had done it all. Sans was a tough cookie, far more of a threat than any of the poor souls bumbling about, but with infinite time and resets Flowey had found how to break him, too. He had learned how to break everyone, after all.  
  
_["This isn't something to cry over, Papyrus! You just need to think of it from a different perspective, that's all." Flowey grinned. "Don't you see it? You're finally important! Right now, to those two, you hold the power over life and death. You're like a god! Now, use those powers and choose who lives and who dies."]_  
  
But that smile always remained, permanently etched to his face.  
  
He had befriended Sans too, time and time again. He still could, but only if he exercised expert finesse. Shortly after a timeline where he had persuaded Alphys, after a long and tiresome game, to continue with the determination trials to a whole new degree, Sans had become oddly suspicious of his actions, ruining many a plan before they came to fruition. It retrospect, it had been interesting, as frustrating as it had been at the time: figuring out the reason behind the bastard's mysterious perceptiveness had been the greatest puzzle of all.  
  
(But he had solved it like any other challenge hurled at him; the desk drawer in Sans' secret workshop retained its contents no matter how many times Flowey chose to reset. Among the curio and some notes about the time anomaly was a small note with only the hastily written words "buy weedkiller". Good thing Sans only checked his drawer when he had reason to suspect timeline shenanigans.)  
  
He popped back above ground to see they had reached their destination. He plunged down again and hid amidst the trees.  
  
Sans passed by the sentry station without giving it a second and sauntered straight to the locked door to the ruins.  
  
_Smile for the camera._  
  
_["You're the only one to blame." With his eyes, Flowey devoured the tears of terror streaming down Alphys' face, her own claws desperately tearing into her cheeks. "It's over. They all know now. There's nowhere to hide."]_  
  
Sans leaned against the door and rapped his bony fingers against it.  
  
No response. After a moment's pause, he tried again.  
  
"Huh," he said out loud as he was once again met with silence. "Guess she's not here yet."  
  
(She wouldn't be there until the next day, with apologies for her absence and the worst knock-knock jokes yet. At this hours, she was too busy trying to retrieve one of her favourite books from an annoying white dog.]  
  
_["Asriel..." Toriel gasped, clutching her chest like that was enough to keep her together._ "Why?"  
  
_"I had to," said Flowey quietly. He might as well admit it; she would remember none of this come reset. "I had to know if this would finally make me feel something."_  
  
_Toriel closed her eyes. A single tear escaped from beneath her eyelids and rolled down her cheek._  
  
_"My dear child..."_  
  
_With one final, shuddering breath, she evaporated into dust._  
  
_Flowey watched her soul burst and scatter with indifferent eyes._  
  
_She had failed him once again.]_  
  
Sans slouched back towards his station, taking his sweet time before sitting on his chair and leaning back.  
  
In a matter of minutes, his eyelids began to droop.  
  
In ten minutes, he was fast asleep, snoring gently with his hands behind his head.  
  
(Every night, after Papyrus was tucked in, Sans would vanish into his workshop and toil well into morning. Locked doors and general naivety were enough to complete the deception.)  
  
(Two months from the present moment, and Sans would only work every other night, if that.)  
  
(A year, and he would give up completely.)  
  
Flowey saved. A needless precaution at this stage, having witnessed this precise moment several dozen times, but better safe than sorry.  
  
Then, he popped out of the snow right behind the sentry station. Unless he caused a big commotion, Sans would remain fast asleep for hours.  
  
More out of habit thank anything else, Flowey summoned a circle of bullets around Sans. It was almost insultingly easy, offing the skeleton while he slept. No challenge or excitement in the slightest. Not that it had stopped Flowey from doing it countless times before.  
  
Not that Flowey could bring himself to care, any more than he could make himself feel.  
  
He had once loved, and that was the most bizarre thing of all. The particulars eluded him, but even after all this time he still distinctly remembered being filled with love: love for his whole family, love for the denizens of the underground. Love for everyone. To Flowey, those memories were much the same as watching other people being moved by a profound emotion, but it had been _him_ back when he still had a soul. Asriel, feeling all those things, caring and cherishing and walking around with his heart on his sleeve.  
  
(At times Flowey dreamed he could go back in time to before his death and meet his past self. Asriel would make such a delightful toy: docile, naive and easily malleable. The fun he could have!)  
  
He had no way of checking it, but he assumed he was at least a thousand years old. A thousand years stuck in a small cave, with the same monsters and same options. He had successfully had more members in his fanclub than Mettaton in his. He had elevated Burgerpants to king. He had even, and he shuddered to think about it, hanged out with Jerry.  
  
Ugh. _Jerry._  
  
And for the past several resets, he had simply allowed the world go by on its own, watching the idiots plod along from the sidelines. It was beyond dull, but at the same time he couldn't be bothered to interfere. What was the use? He had already tried everything at least once. Nothing further could be accomplished.  
  
Maybe Sans had the right idea about something for once.  
  
Flowey gave one last glimpse to the skeleton before burrowing underground. Yes, he could easily just kill him, one last parting shot for all the grief he had given him. Why bother? It was worth nothing, not even a quick thrill.  
  
Let the world keep running its course.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus ran like his cape was on fire, his long limbs rattling to no end.  
  
Sans popped from behind some trees when Papyrus wasn't looking, never bothering to increase his walking speed from a half-hearted slouch.  
  
Flowey ducked underground. only to reappear where he was within hearing distance from the spot where Papyrus' makeshift sentry station stood.  
  
Or had the day before, anyway.  
  
Papyrus looked helplessly at the sad, soaked remains of his sentry station. Nothing remained but a few darkened pieces of mushy cardboard and a lone piece of shaped pasta; all the rest was already buried underneath the re-solidified ice and snow.  
  
"I know the married dogs said it was gone, but I didn't think it'd be this gone!" Papyrus dropped down to his knees and picked up one of the better preserved piece of cardboard.  
  
This was new. Granted, it wasn't particularly exciting new, but it was still an event he had never witnessed before. He couldn't think of anything in particular he had done to trigger it: perhaps it was simply doing very little and hanging near the sentry station that had done the trick. He inched himself closer to ensure he wouldn't miss a second of the curiosity.  
  
Sans walked up to Papyrus. "I'm sorry, bro."  
  
"I mean, I knew this would happen! The roof had been leaking an awful lot lately even after I patched it up! But even then it's too soon...I'm still not a member of the Royal Guard..."  
  
The piece of cardboard in his hand bent, almost like a man bowing down. Tears sprung forth from Papyrus' empty eye sockets.  
  
Flowey rolled his eyes. What was the point of giving Papyrus something real to cry about when he was just as ready to shed tears over the fate of a stupid cardboard box?  
  
Sans crouched down next to his brother. "Sucks, bro."  
  
Papyrus kept sniffling for a good time still for all Sans patted his back.  
  
Then, like a switch had been flipped, he wiped his face with the back of his glove and stood up.  
  
"Oh, well! It's how things go!" He placed his hands on his hips. "I'm not going to give up just yet!"  
  
"That's the spirit." Papyrus had his back turned, but Flowey watched hungrily at the quick flash of self-loathing in Sans' eyes.  
  
"I mean, it's true I'm still not in the Royal Guard just yet, but I have been improving! The last time I cooked pasta none of the sauce stuck to the pan!"  
  
"I love it when things pan out."  
  
Papyrus frowned, but made no further comment. "Undyne said she has really high hopes for me! Granted, she mentioned nothing about getting proper armour or joining the Royal Guard in general, but it still counts!"  
  
"Keep your eye on the prize."  
  
"Yes! Any day now, a human will show up and I will get a chance to prove my worth! I'll confound them with my puzzles and lure them into traps with my cooking! And then I can finally..." Papyrus had struck a dramatic pose as he had began to monologue, but now the hand on his chest fell back down.  
  
"You know..." he turned towards Sans, frowning again. "It just doesn't feel right, talking about joining the Royal Guard after my station is gone."  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"I have been thinking about it before too. I mean, the last meal I cooked really got me thinking..." Papyrus' eyes began to shine. "What if I became a gourmet chef instead? Think of the prestige! People would come from all over the underground just for a taste of my pasta! Songs would be written in honour of my most sumptuous dishes! I might even get a chance to meet Mettaton."  
  
"That would sure be something," Sans replied, and again only Flowey's expertise allowed him to understand the utterance as a legitimate comment instead of sarcasm. "Think Undyne would be okay with it?"  
  
"Actually, she has been saying things about that lately," Papyrus frowned again. "Like that I have been improving a lot, and it's a pity more people haven't had the chance to experience my cooking..."  
  
It was indeed a pity, although probably not the way Papyrus intended. Flowey was quite incapable of digesting any food, but he had seen more than his share of Papyrus' concoctions, and more significantly the expressions of those who had taken a bite out of them. Perhaps having the body of a flower was a blessing in disguise at times.  
  
"I'm sure Undyne will be fine if I still keep working on puzzles even as I pursue the career of a top chef!"  
  
"I'd be surprised if she wasn't."  
  
"Nyeh heh heh! Heh..." Papyrus' eyes flitted towards the mush again. "Pity about the station, though. It was a good one."  
  
"Even when the ceiling caved in and you got buried underneath all the snow that had been on the roof?"  
  
"Even then! Actually..." Papyrus scratched his cheek. "I don't really want to replace it?? I mean, I spent more time patrolling in the first place, and it would be weird to just build another station to take its place. Especially if I'm going to be a chef instead! It would be really difficult to fit a restaurant inside a box!"  
  
"Maybe if you cook really small portions," said Sans with a wink.  
  
"I mean I guess??" Papyrus contemplated Sans' words for a moment. "But no, I have to keep moving forward! If I stay in the past, I won't find the cool things ahead in the future!" His usual big, goofy smile had found its way back on his face. "It was never an official station anyway, so it should be fine!"  
  
Sans smiled. To his surprise, Flowey recognised it as a genuine smile.  
  
Papyrus turned back towards the mush. "Farewell, sentry station! You served me well and shall not be forgotten! I'll keep your memory right here!" He slammed his palm over the emblem on his shirt.  
  
"Your ribs?"  
  
"Exactly! They're always with me wherever I go!"  
  
Sans plunged his hands into his pockets. "Wanna go home and look into this chef thing?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
As they walked away, Sans nudged Papyrus with his elbow. "Hey, once they start writing songs about you, make sure they also write an elegy for your sentry station."  
  
"My noble sentry station, immortalised in song?" Papyrus was clearly tickled pink, even from Flowey's vantage point where he couldn't see his face. "Yes, that would be a fitting tribute!"

 

* * *

 

Flowey didn't bother following the skeleton brothers back to Snowdin. He stood in place next to where the sentry station was buried, like he was a real flower immobilised by his roots.  
  
His mind was reeling, and he couldn't tell why.  
  
_keep moving forward_  
  
There was no reason to dwell on it. It had been similar to countless other conversations he had witnessed, with the same tired words and the same futile smiles and his head wouldn't stop buzzing what was wrong with him.  
  
_keep moving forward_  
  
It was ridiculous. Papyrus giving up on his ludicrous dream and box had no bearing to what Flowey would have to give up. Of course the skeleton would look ahead with a smile on his face. He was an idiot with a sad, tiny life. He had nothing to lose. To move forward, Flowey would lose the entire world.  
  
_keep moving forward_  
  
There was no forward to move to. At best, there was nothingness.  
  
(But was nothing any worse than staying in this purgatory?)  
  
One last time. He would return to the ruins one last time. Maybe this time he would feel even the slightest bit of the love and affection his mother showered him with as soon as he revealed his original identity.  
  
(It was futile. He had tried it so many times already why even bother)  
  
One last time. And if that would fail...  
  
_(it would fail)_  
  
And if he still couldn't bring himself to end it all, well...  
  
Flowey closed his eyes.  
  
There was one person. One person who would understand. One person who wouldn't show even a hint of pity when he confessed his past. One person who would join him without hesitation and no manipulation on Flowey's part.  
  
It was the only person he could never meet again and the one who he longed to meet the most. His sibling, his once soulmate before he had lost his soul.  
  
They had the right idea from the beginning.  
  
Things would never be boring with them around.  
  
Flowey had looked for the body, but it was one of the very few things remaining a mystery to him. All he knew it was no longer in its original resting place.  
  
He had searched, but even human remains deteriorated with time. He had no save close enough to their day of demise.  
  
All he had was the place where they had first met. The place where he had died.  
  
(It was futile. They were dead. What's dead doesn't come back.)  
  
(But...Flowey had come back. And humans...humans were supposed to be determined. Just like Flowey.)  
  
(They wouldn't have moved forward.)  
  
Yes. A lifetime spent waiting where they had fallen.  
  
He owed them that much.


End file.
